Forget Me Not
by ry0kiku
Summary: Deep down, Romano actually fears the day Spain would abandon him. Especially after that particular dream. Inspired from APH episode 37. SpaMano, slight FranceSpain. Oneshot.


Title: Forget Me Not  
Characters: /Romano/Lovino, Spain/Antonio  
Genre: General  
Pairing: Ahh...no komento desu *is shot*  
Summary: Deep down, Romano fears the day Spain would abandon him. Especially after that particular dream. Oneshot.

**Warning: Shounen-ai hints. Possible typo. Rusty English. Surprise pairing, maybe. Romano's colorful language. Teenage!Romano.**

**Hope you'll enjoy :)**

* * *

Italy Romano made his way into the field, looking fondly at the red fresh tomatoes hanging around him, ripe for the taking. They were at their best condition; perfectly round, firm, and their skin were so clean it somehow reflecting the sunlight. Probably even better than the ones sold at the nearest food market.

He let a rare smile graced his face as he picked the nearest tomato and took a bite, slowly savoring the sweet and slightly sour taste. Spain must be pouring his feelings into each and every one of them. The feelings he had secretly, oh so secretly, craving for...

The Spaniard in question currently had his back against him as he crouched, tending to his plantations while humming some random flamenco tune. Even without looking at his face, Romano could tell he was smiling. The Italian could feel heat rising to his cheeks. If only the dense Spaniard knew how he was battling the urge to have that sun-kissed body in his arms, to have a taste of those tomato-kissed lips, every time those emerald eyes were locked onto his...

As if on cue, Spain suddenly lifted his head, forest-green orbs met with hazel, widening in surprise for a brief second, before the whole face exploded in a joyful grin. The Italian brunette grew three more shades of red as Spain stood, dusting off his dirt-covered pants and waved his right arm, mouthing something he couldn't decipher for some reason. Not that it mattered anyway. As long as Spain's attention was for him and him only...

"I missed you!" The smile got impossibly brighter as the older brunette outstretched his arms and half-running towards him. Romano braced himself for the coming bone-crushing bear-hug that was sure to follow.

"Francis!"

...What?

Romano could only gape in pure shock as Spain dashed past him completely ignoring his existence, and threw himself directly into the arms of a certain blonde. A blonde with shoulder-length golden locks, blue eyes, and disgusting beard-to-be on his chin. A blonde who, to his horror, returned the embrace with a quite apparent perverted smirk while whispering. "Me too, _Antoine._"

The Italian staggered back, his confused mind hadn't quite comprehended with the whole situation. Sure, these two had been buddies for as long as he could remember (at least that's what that freaking albino-bastard boasted) and they've even practically grown up together. But still… France. The perverted, self-proclaimed big brother, who chose to spend his spare-time by molesting anything walking and breathing. Best friends or not, surely Spain wouldn't be that crazy to…

"Francis… can I have a kiss?"

Romano could swear he almost had heart attack when the Mediterranean youth gazed up, unreadable emotions clouding the bright green eyes of his. Damn him for being the _freaking _country of _passion_. The blonde only smirked, whispering something Romano couldn't hear before leaning forward, closing whatever little distance between him and the Spaniard.

Sure, Spain wasn't even officially his to begin with, but still…

Completely abandoning his pride, Romano ran towards them with his right hand outstretched, desperately attempting to interrupt the scene. He opened his mouth, to say something, _anything_, to prevent _his_ Spain from being…being _taken _in front of his own eyes…

But no sound was coming out.

Until the dream ended.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" He woke up still screaming, immediately threw away his blanket and ran out of his room towards his ex-boss'. He didn't even bother to wear his clothes—not even his pants. All he cared was…to make sure Spain was still his, and his only. And no one, even in dreams, would take that particular right away from him.

"SPA-SPAGNAAAAA!"

He practically kicked down the door and jumped, higher and higher, until the gravity pulled him down and…

"GUAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Sounds of vital regions being crushed was not pleasant. Not pleasant at all.

* * *

"Soo…what brings you here errr…assaulting me in the middle of the night, Lovi? Did you miss Boss so much?" The Spaniard asked casually, his playful smile was occasionally interrupted by painful wince as he nursed his injured 'regions'. Madrid seemed to be quite unharmed, thank God, but Barcelona and Valencia most likely suffered quite the damage. He might need to see a doctor tomorrow, just in case.

The Italian in question was now sitting on his king-sized bed, wrapped in his spare blanket, with his back on him. His face was the reddest shade of red he had ever seen. Sure, the Italian had used to abuse him so much through his frequent headbutts, but jumping on him in his sleep and crushed his vital regions while being stark naked was…something else. Especially the naked part. He wondered what had made his cute little Lovi snapped like this.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell Boss, Lovi. Let's just go back to sleep and call it a day, alright? I'll forget that you almost crushed Barcelona and Valen…"

"…n't forget about me…"

The Spaniard stopped on his tracks as he eyed his former henchman, who was now shaking uncontrollably, hugging his knees.

"Lovi?"

"I-I said… don't forget about me, dammit…" The Italian buried his face on his knees, red color had already spreading to his ears. "I j-just had this…this fucking dream about you…you and F-France sucking off each other…"

Spain stared at him dumbfounded for a good couple of seconds.

"Is that all?"

"O-Of course not! You also ignored me as if I wasn't even there… like you've completely forgotten about me. I-it's scary, dammit!" He added with a much lower tone.

Spain was still staring at him blankly, before suddenly breaking to a laughter, earning him a death glare from his former henchman.

"Wha… What are you laughing for, bastard! S-so you think it's funny to see me freaked out, huh?"

"Ah, no, no! Of course not, Lovi! I'm not laughing at you or anything." He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, chuckling a bit. "I'm just so happy. Lovi actually cares about me a lot more than he seems…"

"Don't over exaggerate the situation, bastard! It's not that I'm jealous or anything, dammit!"

Ah. So that's all of this is about. How could he not smile, when his beloved Lovi was pouting oh so cutely? And got jealous for him, of all people? In a swift movement, he pulled the still steaming Italian to a tender hug, ruffling the auburn hair gently. He felt Romano's body tensed and started to struggle from the sudden contact.

"Wha..? Bastard, what are you trying to…!"

"Don't worry, Lovi." He breathed straight into his ear, earning a surprised gasp followed with a shudder from the boy in his arms. "I will never, ever forget about you. No matter what happens, Lovi will still be the most important person for me." He placed a gentle peck on Romano's forehead, chuckling as he saw the blush spread even deeper.

"Bas…tard…" Despite the words, Romano seemed to be giving in as he reluctantly returned the hug, face still flushed red from either embarrassment or relief. Or perhaps even both. "J-Just promise me, dammit…"

The Spaniard nodded, nuzzling his ex-colony's scarlet cheek as he whispered, "I promise, _mi Lovinito. _I'd rather die from Inglaterra's scones than forget about you."

They just sat there for another ten minutes, enjoying each other's body warmth before Romano finally decided to go back to his own room. Flashing his ex-motherland one of his rare smiles, he closed the door. Spain sighed and lay back to his bed, stared at his ceiling while pondering. He could still feel Romano's body heat pressed so close against his…

"That was quite a scene, _mon ami_."

The sheet was rustling to reveal a blonde with blue eyes lying right beside him, formerly well hidden underneath the blanket. Spain raised one eyebrow as he stared at his 'best friend', green eyes gleaming in a serious expression he wore only on rarest occasion.

"Don't you ever tell Romano about this, Francia."

The Frenchman let out seductive chuckles as he moved to a sitting position, revealing his hairy naked chest visible for the eyes. "No need to worry, my friend. You know as well as I do that there's nothing I could gain from ruining your relationship with that feisty Italian. I am pretty much content with what we are now. More importantly…"

He crawled to the Spaniard's side, cupping the tanned chin seductively and licked his lips.

"Where were we?"

-fin

* * *

**A/N: Before you guys skin me alive for the crappy ending, mind to leave some comments or feedbacks? Oh and I'm sure you guys should've noticed that the scene was roughly inspired from APH anime episode 37, where Italy came crushing down on Germany screaming "Ore no koto, wasurenaideeee!" (I didn't watch the dub so I'm not really sure about its official English version) Anyways, I can't help but think about a Romano-Spain version while watching that particular ep, and that's the history behind this little ficcie. *grins***  
**Also, because it has been pretty long since the last time I wrote an English fic, feel free to point out grammar mistakes or whatever errors you can detect. I'm hoping to re-learn my English through this.**

**Thanks for reading :)**

**Regards,**

**Ryokiku  
**


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